I'm Not Waiting
by mightjustbe
Summary: A series of short "drabbles"--NOT one shots! Rating may change. based on prompts from drabbles I've been reading/have read and random words of interest. If you have words to suggest, review. Review anyway!
1. Infatuation

Infatuation

Infatuation

He was borderline obsessive, he knew that. He was well aware of his prolonged stares, of his lingering touch that had traveled from where it usually was on her lower back to her cheek while he looked at her. He knew he was in danger of crossing the line he set. He couldn't get enough of her—her scent, her smile, her laugh; the look of rage when he did something too "overprotective" for her comfort, the flash of sadness in her eyes when she went to ask Zack for an opinion only to realize he was gone, the stoic demeanor she had when something hit far too close to home. He was addicted to all things Temperance Brennan. Even the parts of her that he was rapidly learning were remnants of the long lost Joy Keenan—the infant whose whole existence revolved around people she loved whole-heartedly without ever really knowing. Even if she wasn't aware of it, she was capable of it. She loved Zack whole-heartedly, even after she learned his terrifying, gut-wrenching secret.

His infatuation with her would one day cause his demise. He was confident, however, that this would not be that day; He could love her still, from afar, with minimal risk, for another day.


	2. Hope

Hope

She bit her lip and anxiously tapped her foot on the linoleum, her fingers held so tightly together they were growing numb. It had been an excruciatingly long two hours of knowing nothing. Of loneliness and fear and regret for all the things left unsaid, undone… She wanted to know, one way or the other, what was going on.

No… no, that was a lie. She wanted only to know that he was alright. She wanted confirmation that her wildest hope, that he was alive and would recover, not just physically but mentally and emotionally as well, was still plausible. She merely wanted to know that he was going to be alright. No one would tell her anything. No one would even look at her. She sighed and shifted in the uncomfortable chair. Someone had to know something. Someone had to say something sooner or later.

She only hoped, when they did, they would confirm that her hopes had not been wasted. She did not hope often… but she knew Booth was worth the effort. She had hopes that went much, much farther than him merely making out of surgery successfully. Hopes that involved a future without lines that couldn't be crossed, in which they could lay together every night, content and able to express their love. So unlike that night. She had tried to tell him… and then the car… she shook the memory from her head, and tried to focus on one thing: hope. Perhaps if she could hope hard enough, wish hard enough, dream deeply enough… perhaps he would stay with her. She closed her eyes tightly, _Please_, she thought, a tear slipping down her cheek, _just give us a chance…_She opened her eyes to see the doctor coming towards her.


	3. Comfort

Comfort

The bright lights overhead shone through his closed eyes, turning the insides of his eyelids a deep red. He groaned, attempted to roll over onto his left side, only to feel two things: shooting pain and the resistance of a body beside him. His eyes shot open; he sighed in relief, seeing the dark brown curls framing her still made-up face. He could see faint outlines of mascara lining her cheeks, and in her sleep she frowned and leaned into him, her head pushing deeply into the pillow. Reaching out with his right arm, he brushed his thumb softly against her cheek. The tension in her face relieved when he did so, and he smiled. "Bones…" he whispered, leaning closer. "Bones…" his lips were brushing her ear, warm breath stirring her as much as his voice.

"You're awake…" she whispered groggily, her voice thick and rough from lack of use.

He pulled back, but kept his face a mere three inches from hers, "I am. How long have you been here?"

She merely shrugged and stretched her legs, careful not to jerk into him, "Since the accident…"

It all flashed before him again—the SUV spinning out of control on the slick road, her screams as she grabbed for his hand in the chaos of motion. What had she wanted—comfort? A familiar feeling in foreign territory? Perhaps.

Fear flashed in his eyes as his hand reached out to touch her face, "You're okay?"

Smiling slightly, she nodded, careful not to disturb the contact. "You're going to be okay, too, Booth. A fractured fibula, a broken femur… but in a few months and after a little physical therapy…" she yawned and blushed. "Sorry… it's been hard to sleep without knowing when you'd wake up."

"You didn't have to wait…"

"I did." He left it at that—merely wiggled his left arm beneath her neck and pulled her to his chest.

Finally comfortable, they both fell asleep.


	4. Kiss

Kiss

She awoke first. With a small sigh, she smiled into his chest. She had never slept more fitfully than she had in his arms, in that hospital bed. She ran her hand up his arm and pulled back slightly to look at his sleeping face. He was beautiful, though she would never tell him that. Maybe she'd say he was handsome. Perhaps one day she may tell him he was "hot". But her eyes saw beauty, even if she'd never verbalize it. Sure, she could rationalize it away—anthropologically speaking, humans have always been attracted to members of the opposite sex whose faces were as close to symmetrical as possible. Seeley Booth was nearly perfect—his left eye just a fraction of a millimeter higher than the right, a dimple more pronounce on his right side than on his left—both minor flaws that almost no one would notice. Unless they studied his face as she had.

His eyes blinked open slowly, taking a moment to watch her as she stared straight back at him, unflinchingly. A smile spread across his face, the dimple making its appearance.

She shook her head and smiled. "What?" He whispered.

She couldn't answer with words. She wanted to tell him she was relieved that he was alright. After the car crashed, he'd passed out from the shock—she hadn't told him that his fibula had been visible to her as she called for help—and she was left alone in the car to wonder how serious the injuries were. Did he have a closed head injury? Would he come to before the ambulance arrived? She hoped not—she couldn't bear to see him in such pain. And now, here she was, staring into his beautiful, smiling face. And she couldn't tell him this—not with her words. She did the only thing she could. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.


	5. Home

Home

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably in the wheelchair. "They gave me crutches. They said, 'Hey, use these' and yet, here I am, being carted around like fucking groceries…"

She winced, her hands tightening slightly on the handles. "It's only until we're to the car. Then you're on your own, alright? Just a few more minutes…" She forced her voice to remain steady, though tears threatened to fall. He had been so cranky since they told him yesterday, after three solid days of hospital living, they'd only release him to the care of someone.

He nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. He was always independent. Always the one to do as he pleased, never having to answer to anyone. And yet, here he was, forced to be at someone else's beck and call for the next 4 weeks. Minimum! He frowned as they pulled up to his SUV. "Where's your car?"

"Yours has more leg room, and shouldn't be too hard for you to get into and out of." She smiled as she shrugged, "I thought maybe you'd feel better about having to live with me for the next few weeks if you had a few more minor familiarities around."

He simply nodded, his voice caught in his throat, as he stood gingerly on his right leg, his left encased in plaster. She was right—there was plenty of leg room, and it required only moderate levels of difficulty—pulling himself into the SUV in such a way that his arms did all of the work and his legs merely hung freely, then once seated, carefully turning to make sure he didn't hit the cast.

She watched him move, and he noted the sad look still lingering on her face. "Ready?" she whispered, forcing a smile that didn't reach her shining eyes.

"Hey, Bones… Living with you is not a bad thing. Granted, I'd prefer not to be a cripple and it to be under entirely different circumstances…" He sighed, "I've been hard to handle the past few days, and I know you've been hit the hardest by it. I can't apologize enough for my behavior… but thank you for everything." He pulled her hand to his lips and fought the urge to smile as she rolled her eyes and blushed, "Now, let's go home."

Neither had ever thought the word had fit better.


	6. Endearments

Endearments

"I said I was sorry!" She groaned, slamming the door behind her.

He banged angrily at the door that had just slammed in his face, "Dammit, you can't abandon a cripple, Bones!"

"STOP calling yourself a fucking CRIPPLE!" she bellowed, launching herself onto the couch. "You're injured, but not permanently, irreparably so!"

He threw the bathroom door open, emerging crutches first, body second, with only boxers on. "What are you, the word police? I may as well be a cripple! I can't do anything the way I used to. I can't go out into the field—I'm a desk jockey, Temperance. Do you know what that DOES to me!? I can't run around with Parker. I can't get into and out of the shower without having to wrap my cast. I can't drive…" His eyes bore into hers, and he said the next part in a broken voice that went far beyond the simple complaining whine the rest of the rant had been, "But the part that kills me, Bones… the part that I hate the most, is not being able to make love to you."

Her heart stopped, tears springing to her eyes as she fought to breathe. "Oh, baby…" she whispered, standing and rushing to him, kissing him passionately. "I didn't know… I just thought…"

"What, that I didn't want you?" he shook his head sadly, "I want you so much it aches."

She placed her hand on his cheek. "Then have me." She whispered, smiling. "Just because you can't be on top does not mean we can't be together…"

"I love you, Bones." He whispered, stopping her as she made her trek to the bedroom.

"I love you too, Baby." He never knew she was the type of woman to use endearments, especially after her tirade against Bones… but he didn't think he'd ever hear her call him baby enough…


	7. Vow

Vow

She stroked his hair as he cried, his head buried in the crook of her neck. She could feel his tears seeping into her shirt, and she felt tears well within her own eyes. "Shh… everything's alright…" she whispered, slowly beginning to rock him.

"It was so scary, Tempe…" the boy said, a tremor in his voice.

"You know, when I have a bad dream, it helps me to tell someone else what it was about. Would you like to try?" She felt him nod against her and slowly pull away.

"Daddy and I were at the park. We were running around—he wasn't hurt anymore—and we kept laughing and having so much fun. And then the sky got really dark, and there was a loud noise. Daddy was lying on the ground, and I couldn't get him to wake up. I was shaking him, and then my hands turned red… and Daddy went to Heaven." Tears fell steadily down his cheeks, "I know it was just a dream… but I don't want Daddy to go to Heaven for a long time…"

"I don't either, Parker…" she gave him a small smile and pulled him into her lap once again. "I'll do everything I can to make sure your Daddy stays with us for as long as possible."

"Promise?"

"I do." She whispered, her hand once again returning to his curls as she rocked him back to sleep. He watched the exchange silently, tears coating his own cheeks. He'd make sure she wouldn't break her vow to his son. He always made sure her promises made were promises kept…


	8. Bliss

Bliss

She awoke in his arms, her head tucked gingerly beneath his chin. She smiled into his skin, skimming her lips across the smooth, firm plane of his chest. She felt him stir, her smile widening. "Morning," she whispered, her lips having found their way to his neck. She felt him shiver slightly as she sucked his skin into her mouth for a moment before releasing it, a wet pop sounding in the quiet of the room.

"And what a morning it is," he whispered, pulling her up so she was, finally, at eye level and no longer able to continue her earlier assault. "You know, that's the best way I think I've ever been awoken at…" he glanced over at the clock and groaned, "5 a.m., Bones?"

She grinned and pulled his face to hers, "Sorry, baby…"

He shook his head before closing the remaining distance between them. She wanted to wake him up at 5 in the morning? He'd show her the meaning of bliss—and when she fell asleep after, he planned on unplugging the alarm and turning off their phones after calling them both in sick to work. He'd show her bliss all day long…


	9. Memory

Memory

Memories were tricks of the mind. The things you wanted emblazoned in your mind for all eternity often faltered, leaving you with only scraps of perfection and whispers of truth amidst the lies. The things you wished would fade lingered, brought forth at random—the smell of the sea, a cold breeze, a picture of a sail boat in the distance—recalling the feelings you'd rather forget.

He wanted to remember the look on Sully's face when she told him that he was far too late. That she was in love with someone else, and any chance they had ever had together had sailed away on her namesake, with him.

"Who is he? Is he a good man, good to you?"

She smiled broadly at him, wrapping her arm around Booth's waist as she pulled him tightly to her side, "The very best."

He hoped he'd keep that memory, and so many others involving her, until the last breath leaked from his body.


	10. Grace

Grace

She was nervous. Beyond nervous, really. His hand holding hers beneath the table was the only thing giving her some measure of calm, if only to save face. He had been right—his family was extremely nice, very accommodating… but he'd left out how intimidating it was to meet people who knew so much about you before you'd seen them face to face. "Did you really have to tell them everything?" she whispered through her forced grin as she increased the pressure on his hand.

"I can't help it. When I love someone, I tell everyone I care about…" He tossed her an easy smile, but she wasn't going to let him get off that easily.

"So then why do they have so many stories from long before? Starting with the homeland-security incident, hmm?"

He was no longer half-paying attention to his family's mixed conversations—he turned and looked at her directly, his expression completely serious. "Because I've been in love with you since that moment."

She smiled at him, "So basically you mean you let us waste more than 3 years together?"

He shrugged, "I have to let the genius figure out some things for herself…" he grinned.

As his parents returned to the table and sat down, his father beginning to say grace, he noticed that she actively, without hesitance, followed everyone else's motions. They knew she wasn't religious, but he (if no one else) appreciated the gesture.


	11. Pleasure

Pleasure

The delivery man knocked on the door before him after double checking the address. She answered the door in flannel pants and a black tank, her hair twisted into a messy bun, her eyes still bleary from sleep. "Are you Dr. Temperance Brennan?" At her nod, he handed her the clipboard, then the box, "Have a good day, ma'am."

He sat on the couch, his cast on the coffee table, his right ankle crossed over the plaster. He pretended to be enraptured with the first thing he'd found on the table—unfortunately for him, it was the latest installment of her favorite anthropological journal. "I wonder what it is…" she whispered, taking a seat beside him. He merely shrugged, and continued to read about the recent discovery of an ancient burial site outside Cairo, believed to be the remnants of a long-fabled city. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, fighting a smile at the look of joy crossing her face as she cut into the tape.

"So, what is it?"

She threw her arms around his neck, "How did you know I wanted this?" He could feel the necklace clutched in her hand, the pendant pressing into his flesh. "I mean, I didn't mention it…"

"You didn't have to. I'm just glad you like it…" He smiled, pressing his lips to hers.

"I do, very much… I don't know how to thank you…"

"It's my pleasure, Bones…" He definitely owed Angela big time. Maybe he'd get her that book on Van Gogh she'd mentioned…


	12. Sweet

Sweet

She tasted like strawberries and coffee with cream, with slight undertones of vanilla, honey, and something else. Something he couldn't quite name, but couldn't get enough of. Which explained why he was kissing her there, in his office, the door open, when she'd only dropped in to drop off lunch she'd picked up for him. He felt her smile against his lips and reluctantly released his grip on her arms, "Thank you…"

"That's quite a way to show your appreciation…" She whispered, smiling. She was beautiful when she was flushed from a mixture of enjoyment, embarrassment and a slight lack of oxygen.

"What can I say, Bones? I really like…" he opened the box and grinned, "Aw, you got me a burger and fries! Hey, what's this…" He found another container in the bag and pulled it out, his grin growing as he saw the contents, "You spoil me!"

She shrugged, "The waitress recognized me, mentioned that she had a freshly baked apple pie that just screamed of that 'hunky man' I always accompanied…"

After she left, as he bit into the still-warm pie, he couldn't help but think that she trumped the sweet taste of the pie. Moreover, she trumped nearly every sweet he could recall eating in his life. Without a doubt, she was the sweetest of all…


	13. Surprise

Surprise

As he stepped gingerly onto the platform, finally free from the cast and able to drive himself to the lab, he saw her eyes widen. "Surprise!" He called, grinning.

"You didn't tell me you were getting your cast off today!"

He shrugged, "I didn't know. The doc wanted to replace it, give me one just for my lower leg, but after he x-rayed me, he said I appear to be the fastest healer he'd ever treated."

She frowned slightly, "Can we… talk in my office, for a moment?"

He nodded and followed her lead, albeit slower than the pace she kept. "What's up? Why are you upset?"

She sighed and sat on the couch, motioning for him to follow, "It's just… I was enjoying our previous arrangement…"

_Oh…_he thought, _Oh, Bones… you're afraid it will all change now that I'm better? That we have to live apart now that I can take care of myself?_ "Nothing about our previous arrangement has to change."

Her eyebrows rose, "What are you saying?"

"Let's move in together."

Her eyes widened, "That's… sudden. Surprising… Should we maybe, um… think about this?"

"What's to think about?" He shrugged, "We've been living together for a month—nothing's different, except now I can drive again. And when we make love…" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"This is a big step, Booth. I'm not…" Her eyes welled, "I'm not sure I'm ready for that…"

As he walked back to the SUV, fighting the urge to punch the wall of the parking garage just to feel the pain inside his heart reflected externally, he realized that the day had held far more surprises for him than he'd ever imagined.


	14. Ache

Ache

She hadn't seen him, heard from him, in three days. Though she kept a brave face at work, she couldn't keep the same composure in the confines of her shockingly empty apartment.

She wanted him to walk through the door with that goofy, wide grin on his face. The grin she noticed now that was only for her. She had cried every day since the day he'd come to the lab and they'd fought. _No, _she thought, _fought is the wrong word. Since the day I told him we couldn't be together. Since the day I ruined the best thing I'd ever found. _

She had driven to the Hoover building before realizing he no longer needed her as his escort. By the time she'd made it back to her place, every trace of him had been whisked away. Quickly, cleanly, efficiently… but not painlessly. Not for her, and she was fairly certain the same could be said for him.

She missed him desperately. She felt the ache in the pit of her stomach when she went into her room, able to smell him still, as though he'd just left the room. She felt the ache spread across her skin as she slept in the one pair of sweat pants he'd neglected to take, as she felt the thick material bunch uselessly around her thin legs, the waistband pulled as tightly as possible and still barely touching her hips. She felt the ache constantly, in her heart, when she thought of what she had lost because she was afraid.


	15. Certainty

Certainty

Angela had called him on day five of their mutual misery. "Whatever is going on, it has gone on long enough."

"Angela… you have no idea…"

"Don't pull that shit with me, Booth. YOU have no idea, not me; I'm here, and you're not. You're not here to see the lost puppy look on her face whenever someone scans themselves onto the platform and she realizes it's not you. You're not here to see her push her food around her plate, only to give it up without a bite, because she can't even eat anymore! You're not here to watch her cry in her office, thinking that no one else notices. I notice, dammit. And I can't sit back and let you two fuck this up anymore. Get over here and fix this. I don't care what it takes."

He heard the dial tone and sighed. It had been her choice. If she was so miserable, if she wanted him back… why didn't she call? Didn't she know all she had to do was say the word and he'd be there, at her door, ready and willing for whatever she was ready for?

He arrived to see Angela glaring at him before glancing at Temperance's office, the door shut and the shades drawn. He didn't bother to knock; he found her on the couch, the same spot she'd been in the last time he'd seen her. Her elbows on her knees, her face buried in her hands, sobs wracking her body, she was thinner than he'd ever seen her. He crouched beside her, finally grabbing her attention. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" she wailed, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

"Shh," he whispered, stroking her back, startled by the feel of her spine beneath his fingers, "it's alright, Bones. Everything's going to be fine."

"Will you come back?"

He pulled back, "Only if you want me to. We can just start over—live in our own places, date…"

She shook her head. "No. Move in. Please?"

"Are you sure? Really sure?"

She nodded, "Yes." The certainty in her voice sent his heart soaring, and though he hated himself for the pain she was in, he'd never been happier.

.


	16. Rare

Rare 

She awoke, pressed into his chest, thinking it was still a dream. It didn't feel real, after just a few days without him she was a total mess. She was so independent, so free. Until the accident that put everything into perspective; until the moment he had to depend on someone else and he chose her, told her how he felt. It still felt so alien. She could hear the steady brump-thump of his heart, feel her hand rise and fall with each breath as she felt the defined ridge of his abdomen. She glanced down, taking in the puckered purple scar from the accident, when his broken fibula punctured the surface. She felt him jerk gently into consciousness and fought to keep herself steady, feigning sleep. She felt his hand slowly wander from her lower back to her hair, his fingers slipping idly in the waves. "I love you…" he whispered, and she had to remember to keep her breathing steady.

When she felt him drift back to sleep, she slowly and carefully reached over and shut off the alarm. They deserved more time together. It was only on the rarest of occasions she ever slept in, let alone failed to appear to work. But lying there, against the steady beat of his heart after five nights of solitude, she was willing to sacrifice her impeccable work ethic.


	17. Rose

Rose 

He watched her, amused at her ease of movement. He wondered how long it would take for her to feel him there, watching, his eyes drinking in the swish of her hips, the swing of her arms, the toss of her head, all in time with the song. Oh, that song. So many memories, so much pain and hurt. And yet, when he heard that chorus, it never failed to make him smile, make him think of her and her high kick, her air guitar. He wondered why she hadn't sashayed then like she did now, when she believed no one was there to see.

At the next chorus, she rotated her hips and spun, her eyes shooting wide as he sang out with the song, dancing closer to her. He knew he wasn't particularly skilled, but he could hold his own.

He grinned as she turned the prettiest shade of rose he'd ever seen. "Don't be embarrassed, baby" he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to her flushed cheek, "it was literally the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Next to that hip swivel thing you do when…" She slapped his shoulder, her face now a deeper shade than it had been, and he grinned. He'd never stop embarrassing her if she looked that beautiful when she blushed…


	18. Date

Sweet

Date 

It was their first official date since his leg had been freed from the tyranny of plaster. He wanted it to be perfect, but despite the best laid plans, things fell apart. The tire had blown, causing horrible flashes of the last time they'd been in the vehicle, spinning around like that. His heart broke as he heard her terrified scream reverberate off the windows. "Bones!" His hand shot for hers as the car reached a sudden stop. "Are you okay?"

Though tears coated her face, she nodded before throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him tightly to her. "I've never been so afraid in my entire life," she whispered, pressing a kiss into his neck. "Can we just go home?"

He nodded, "As soon as I fix the tire…"

"You can't! Your leg… no, you stay here. I'll change the tire."

"You'll mess up your outfit!"

She shrugged, "No matter—it's not my favorite, I just thought you'd enjoy the view," And he had, many times, before they'd even gotten into the car, "And besides, we're not going to dinner anymore, so…"

With all of the drama of the night, he couldn't help but think as she curled into his side on the couch that it was still the best first date of his life.


	19. Believe

Believe

She didn't recognize the number, but that wasn't altogether unusual for her work phone. She got calls all the time, solicitations of her expertise needed for this or that. "Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"I know. The question is, do you know who I am?"

She frowned, her eyebrows drawing together tightly. "I'm sorry?"

The woman laughed, "I'm the woman who's fucking your boyfriend."

Her breath caught in her throat. "You're mistaken."

"Seeley Booth? He's a fine man, a better lover…"

Tears swam in her eyes as she hung up the phone. The woman tried to call again, but Brennan swallowed her emotions and let the phone ring, deleting the woman's voicemail without hearing it. She didn't cry because it was the truth, or because she thought it could be. She cried because never before would it have mattered to her if her lover had slept with someone else. She had asked Angela once if she was missing out, and Angela had said she was. Now she knew.

When she told him about it later, calm and composed, his eyes widened and his jaw flexed angrily. "What?"

She shrugged, "It doesn't matter…"

"It does to me! I would never…"

"I know," she interrupted, "I didn't ask you if you did or didn't cheat on me. I believe you wouldn't—you've a strong moral compass and an overriding sense of guilt when it comes to sexuality, and besides that, you can't lie to me."

"It's more than that, Bones." His eyes drilled into hers, "I wouldn't do that because I love you."

She didn't need to tell him that she believed that, too. He knew she did, and moreover, that she felt the same.


	20. Dreams

Dreams

The first time the dream had made its appearance, he tried to reassure himself it would never happen. But even while awake, his mind attacked him, told him his dream could be a reality. Disaster lurked in every corner—it came with the job. After three nights straight, he realized reluctantly it wouldn't fade on its own. Decision made, he made an appointment during his lunch break that day.

"So, what brings you in, Agent Booth?"

He sighed, "I keep having this… dream…"

"A recurring theme, or the exact dream."

"It's always the same. I go to find Bones in her office, and she's not there. No one's seen her for hours. She won't answer her cell—she's just disappeared." He shook his head, "And then I get a phone call. She's been shot, and she's dead, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even find her!"

"That's very image-laden, Agent Booth."

"So how do I make them stop, Sweets?"

Sweets tapped his fingertips together in front of his mouth, "This dream is essentially your worst nightmare. Your partner, someone you love deeply and trust immensely, has failed to impart crucial information, and goes missing. Because of a lack of communication not only between the two of you, but everyone in your lives, no one knows how to contact her, and this leads ultimately to her demise." He sighed, "It's very interesting. I think it means that, although you two have a solid relationship and terrific chemistry both inside and outside of the workplace, you've failed to fluidly move that into the realm of your other relationships. You're afraid her independence will ultimately lead her to strive for alone time, and that your relationship will jeopardize her life. The best thing you can do to stop these dreams is to talk with her about them. And bring your friends into the circle of trust, man. They're an important validating factor."

While he thought most of the kids explanations were bullshit, he knew it wouldn't hurt to tell her what was happening. And maybe then he could dream of other things, like her seducing him in the lab—that had always been a favorite…

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading and enjoying! This is the last chapter for THIS story, but I've got another set of prompts I will use to continue later. The continuation will, however, most likely be rated M, so if you'd like to read it, look for updates from me in that area!


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